


Kisses and Confessions

by topcatnikki



Series: Kisses and Confessions Series [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Katsudomm, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 08:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topcatnikki/pseuds/topcatnikki
Summary: Yuuri and Victor build up a little tension during practice that has to be relieved one way or another (one-shot set post episode five).





	Kisses and Confessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleLostStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLostStar/gifts), [Hellohoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellohoney/gifts), [ClassOf13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassOf13/gifts), [Alexis_Katsuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Katsuki/gifts), [Mikai02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikai02/gifts), [Alphina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphina/gifts), [gatoradebitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatoradebitch/gifts), [SkyaraSnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyaraSnow/gifts), [SophieDoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieDoodles/gifts), [Victors_tears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victors_tears/gifts), [yuurikatsuckme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuurikatsuckme/gifts).



> This is a self indulgent bit of smut that I wrote with all of my lovely discord nerds in mind and grew under the tutelage of @classof13 into this beast. I love you guys! 
> 
> And I'm gifting it to littleloststar because I have no chill and anon'd @ her on tumblr :')

Victor is watching him again, chin tilted coyly behind one shoulder, fingers lightly grazing his shoulders. The light spilling through the rink windows carving his back muscles in shades of deepening grey. His eyes are fixed on Yuuri, sharp gaze trailing the length of his body as he tries and fails to concentrate on his blocking silhouette. It’s not really Yuuri’s fault he’s distracted, Victor has been shooting him these looks since the moment he graced the ice, every lean muscle taut, there’s a hint of purpling peeking out from the fitted tee on his left hip that is a perfect outline of Yuuri’s thumb.

This was not helping him concentrate.

 

Nor was the way Victor’s hands were touching his skin, fingers delicately peaked over his shoulders as he stretched, his silhouette was beautiful. Yuuri’s hands were shaking. Victor was watching him from the corner of one hooded eye, hair obscuring his left in an elegant sweep of platinum, the crooked smile he pulled on was devilish. The wide expanse of his shoulders narrowed down in pale tones down to his hips, the balance of his feet was pushing his behind out in a teasing curve.

 

Their relationship had shifted so suddenly it took Yuuri’s soaring heart a few days to get used to it. The view from the podium at regionals had been one of Yuuri grinning broadly across at his coach from the height of his success, Victor beaming back at him bracketed by Minako and Takeshi. They’d celebrated with dinner, a worse for wear Minako falling to Takeshi’s care as they made their way back to the hotel, he’d waved off their offers of assistance good naturedly with promises to meet them for breakfast in the morning.

 

Their elevator ride was filled with Victor’s compliments, hand in hand he’d kissed Yuuri’s knuckles and rhapsodised over his free skate, “You were so beautiful out there dorogoy, so elegant-”

 

“Yeah, right up until I rammed my face into the boards at least.” he chuckled uneasily, it had been a whiplash response to the glowing praise, self-depreciation easier to bear than Victors heartfelt adulation. There was a level of self-preservation to his words, if he allowed himself to believe that Victor was speaking the truth, that he was beautiful, captivating, his imagination might take him a million miles in the wrong direction and jeopardize their friendship.

 

“Yuuri, even brutalising you face on the rink walls isn’t enough to distract from how enrapturing you were, you were stunning in every second of your skate. I…” Victor trailed off, shaking his head with a wistful smile as the doors to their floor opened. They’re still hand in hand when Yuuri fished the key card from his jeans, Victor grabbing the door handle and pushing them through.

 

The unfinished sentence bothered Yuuri as he brushed his teeth, his reflection frowning back at him over the generic sink. Victor had looked so conflicted for a moment before that troubling smile, as though he had a hundred things to say but no way to put it into words. It bothered him as he rinsed his mouth. It bothered him as he washed his face, wet hair clinging to his forehead. It bothered his as he left the bathroom and found Victor still fully clothed, perched on the corner of his twin bed.

 

“Victor-”

 

“Yuuri, I-” They stared at eachother for a few seconds, silence between them waiting to be filled with _something_.

 

“After you.” Yuuri was a coward perhaps, or maybe he’d known that Victor was the more brazen of the two, he had after all been the one to turn up naked in Yuuri’s family home after watching a single video.

 

“Yuuri.” Victor got to his feet, carefully stepping into Yuuri’s space like approaching a skittish animal, “You once told me to be myself- that me being me was all that you expected. I… It’s been hard to fulfill that promise for me.”

 

“Victor?”

 

“Wait, just for a moment- It’s been hard to keep to those words Yuuri, hard to meet that expectation of yours when I’m so… unbalanced.” The wry smile was back again, a rueful chuckle escaping Victor’s lips as his eyes scanned Yuuri’s face, “You have me at a disadvantage Yuuri Katsuki. Seducing me every day on the ice and never off it. Asking me to meet you where you are, but not meeting me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Anything above a whisper would have broken Yuuri’s fragile composure, would have shattered the moment. The hushed question was answered with a soft press of fingers to his cheek, guiding his face up to meet Victors gaze.

 

“You must know…” The touch slid down his throat, fingers found the back of his neck, playing with the dark strands at the nape of his neck and making him tremble under the light caress. There was a hesitance, a seconds wavering. “Have I been too subtle? Have I read this wrong? These questions keep me up at night...” Victor made to pull away then, a minute turn of his shoulders before Yuuri’s hands stilled his momentum. While not ten minutes before he'd been unsure, unwilling to believe the skinship and tension was anything other than Victor's playful demeanour, the tired slump of his posture and wistfulness in his tone could be nothing but confirmation.

 

“No,Victor I…” He’d never been good with words, never had the confidence to put himself in a position where they could be misconstrued. “I didn’t dare to hope, I couldn't believe you would-”

 

“Yuuri…?”

 

“Yes. _Yes._ Victor-” They were all shaking hands and clumsy lips in their first kiss, the inexorable pull of each other pulling them onward and back to the surface of a twin bed. There were a lot of yeses laid down between them that night.

 

The next afternoon Yuuri had made an ass of himself at a press conference in Tokyo, but the elation of his soaring heart hadn't let him feel the embarrassment. He'd rushed into the train station and back to Hausetsu where Victor was awaiting him with open arms and feverent lips.

 

They'd spent the majority of the weekend in Victor's bedroom, venturing out only when Makkachin or their stomachs had complained too much. Apart from those small breaks they spend the time wrapped together, in conversation or bodily. Either way they had focused on mutual discovery. They spoke between kisses of everything and nothing.

 

Then it was over. Life crept back in and they parted unwillingly, with kisses and promises and three-minutes-after-they-part text messages. It was dorky, and endearing, and heart-rending.

 

They had taken Makka for a walk last night, the autumn twilight had felt so much like the blankets they'd been buried in just hours before that Yuuri found himself steering them back to the onsen, ditching Makka with Mari with barely a backwards glance and dragging Victor upstairs.

 

And now he's staring.

 

Yuuri can feel the heat pooling in his gut.

 

Deep breaths. He somehow remains stoic under Victor’s direct gaze.

 

The session passed painfully slowly, seconds ticking away sluggishly as Yuuri struggled to maintain his composure, and failed spectacularly. He couldn’t stop the wandering of his imagination, which was apparently actively trying to kill him. Vividly depicting their last fuck, Victor pinned beneath him as he worked his hips in circles. Victor fucking up into him, the slick slide of latex and lube against his prostate. There was something too delicious about the blush on Victor's chest as he'd seated himself on his cock, too tempting in the shaking fingers that took him in hand.

 

The man in front of him has that same blush, creeping from the back of his neck and disappearing from sight.

 

The session ended, Yuuri’s blocking woefully unfinished. He tried to remain calm as Yuuko enquired about his lack of progress. His imagination still hadn't let up though, leaping past fact and straight into fiction as Victor bent over to remove his skates- Victor's ass under his track pants was mouthwatering and he's worked himself into a frenzy of want. His mind supplies the image- Victor braced against the rink boards, fingers gripping uselessly at them as Yuuri spread his cheeks, admiring the trails of saliva he’d been pooling into the other man, easing the slide of opening him up, tongue darting out to join the fingers buried deep within. Victor is pliant below him, voice a melody of sighs he presses over the edge of the boards along with his face- “Perhaps you should stay late. Finish what you’ve started.”

 

Yuuri isn’t listening. Yuuri can’t think straight. Victor is at the boards fussing with the laces of his skates, back still turned. He wants to back Victor up against the nearest stable surface and divest him of all those useless scraps of fabric- Yuuko simply frowns beside him “The groundwork is solid, you just need to put in a little work. You guys can lock up yeah?”

 

The room quiets around him, but Yuuri is still fixated on Victor. He hasn’t turned around, but he’s darting looks over his shoulder at Yuuri as Yuuko and the triplets file out. The door echoes as it shuts behind Takeshi.

 

They’re alone.

 

For the first time today his body is one step ahead of his brain, feet carrying him into Victor’s space before he had even thought about the action. Victor meets him on the ice, skates still firmly in place as Yuuri meets him at the boards. The temptation that had been pulling at him, Victor’s eyes on him had him feverish with desire for the man. He couldn’t help himself as he pressed himself to Victor’s back, fingers on the thin fabric at his hips. He’s skimming his fingers over the pants while Victor presses back into him.

 

“Yuuri.” it’s a whispered sigh of a thing, his name on Victor’s lips, Yuuri’s fingers twitch with tension. Victor shivers against him.

 

“You just spent the last ninety minutes showing me your ass, and you’re the one shaking?” His fingers are spreading against Victor’s abdomen. “You have no idea what kind of torture you put me through. It’s been terrible.”

 

“Then tell me,” Victor is still pushing back at him, leaning against him. “tell me all of the terrible thoughts I put into your beautiful head.” He considers it, there’s something that feels dangerous about spilling his fantasies to Victor, opening up and letting all of the filthy things he’d thought about out but he’s hesitant, not truly brave enough to form the words. Victor is watching him, head tilted in a mockery of his free skate end pose. His fingers seek Yuuri’s on his stomach, fingers linking and pulling them closer. “Please, Yuuri.”

 

It shouldn’t be so easy, wrapping himself artlessly around a man he'd idolised for so long. It shouldn't be so easy to let himself get swept away in Victor's touch. Yet Victor makes it easy, fingers guiding Yuuri’s own on a tour of his chest, illiciting breathy sounds, whimpers that his active imagination had failed to create. It’s so easy, almost intuitive as he catches Victor’s lips as he turns in his arms. Victor puts him at ease, pulls him out of his shell is such small incremental ways that Yuuri can feel himself pushing out of his own accord, racing to meet Victor, to keep him for a second longer.

 

The twist of Victor’s body is a filthy drag against Yuuri's cock, already half hard having watched the other man practically begging for him all afternoon. Victor is rubbing himself at Yuuri’s hip, he can feel the press of the erection against his own as Victor hauls him further into the kiss. His lips are hot, tongue pulling as gasp from Yuuri, desperate for him “I want to hear it, I want to know every filthy thing you’ve thought up for me.” his accent thickens around the words.

 

He could blame the buzzing happiness that’s made his day akin to a waking dream, or the way Victor’s hands are roaming, still not divesting him of clothing, but catching at buttons and gripping. He could blame the surge of lust that had risen at the feeling of Victor’s hard cock against his sweats. But deep down Yuuri knew that he wanted this, dreamed of it, and had had it before. He just couldn’t contain himself anymore. He pulls out of the older mans grasp, shaking his head with a smile playing at his lips.

 

“I'm not going to tell you, Vitya.” Victor huffs his displeasure into his collarbone, lips travelling the length from shoulder to chest, “I won’t tell you, but I’ll show you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He’s so willing, so eager to follow Yuuri’s lead.

 

Yuuri crowds Victor with lips and hands, guiding him to the boards in seconds and pinning him there. The slick sound of their skates is punctuated by the dull thud of Victor's torso against the wood. “ _Yuuri-_ ”

 

He stops him with a kiss. Not just any kiss, the kind of kiss that Victor melts beneath- he's categorised every single way to take this man apart in his bed- _their bed_. They'd made it theirs though, claims of ownership in sweat and skin and hushed voices. Now there was no one to disturb, no one to complain if Victor was calling Yuuri’s name in tones of ecstasy.

 

Victor is clinging to him, fingers tight in the fabric of his shirt, finding purchase against the tide of Yuuri’s desire in bunched muscles and hot skin. He can feel the trembling of those fingers, the shuddering in Victor's breath as he pulls away for a slip of air. Yuuri isn't pulling back, isn't going to hold back, dragging his lips the length of Victor's jaw. Tongue and teeth and sinful slickness all the way to his collarbone. Victor ruts against him mindlessly, hips shifting in a lewd echo of their preoccupation.

 

“Yuuri I- I need-” gasping and breathless under the weight of Yuuri’s hands as they palm his ass through track pants. He needs. Victor needs to remember who's in charge right now.

 

“You aren't in a position to ask right now Vitya,” his hands push at the fabric of Victor's t shirt, rucking it up until Victor gets the message and it's thrown carelessly over the boards. “You had one request Vitya, and you made it.” He punctuates with his teeth on a peaked nipple, the cool air of the rink in contrast to Victor's heated skin. Yuuri’s other hand dips into Victor's waistband, gloved fingers trailing the length of his dick in the lightest of touches. “Show me, Tell me. Remember Vitya, you _asked_ for this. What you need isn't up for debate today.”

 

Victor’s only response is a pitched whine that bounces the length of the rink, echoing back to them. It has Yuuri’s blood rushing through his veins, the sound of Victor without stifling, the knowledge that he’s the only one who can do this, can have this. Bedrooms were filled with secrets, and this was one of Victor’s, he’d never been able to truly let go, to allow himself to embrace the depths of his desires. Whispers in the dark and in the dead of night when they’re loose-limbed and satiated, Victor has always been too aware of his image, of expectations, he’s never been able to simply release himself into the arms of another.

 

Those deep dark desires have been so long unanswered, so tampt down for so many years, the suddenness of his need had been astonishing. Victor Nikiforov, gold medalist, five time champion, naked and wanting and whining and _writhing_ under Yuuri’s ministrations. Victor Nikiforov begging for Yuuri’s cock in his mouth. Begging for Yuuri to take him apart at the seams. There was nothing like the image of Victor on his knees, flushed from face to stomach and taking Yuuri’s load on his face. Victor needed to be needed, wanted to be wanted.

 

Who was Yuuri to deny such a delightful request?

 

“Turn around.”

 

Victor does, with unsteady legs and shaking arms. Victor does so well, Yuuri can’t help but praise him with hand and lips. Fingers thread into that pale hair, pulling on the strands and tongue mapping the shell of an ear, “You’re so good for me Vitya, so perfect.” His lover melts into the praise, shoulders slumping and pressing his ass against Yuuri’s crotch, “You can’t wait can you? You can’t wait for me to be filling you up.”

 

Yuuri doesn’t expect an answer, he’s so used to Victor being pliant and desperate under him, yet Victor presses his hips back further one hand making its way to his pants. Yuuri almost doesn’t allow it, almost catches him at the wrist but Victor is doing delightful things to his groin right now and he doesn’t want to impede his progress. The answer is blunt to the point of forwardness. Victor fishes a small bottle of lube from his pants pocket. The sight of it is enough for Yuuri’s rationality to fly out of the window at breakneck speed.

 

“ _Vitya_ .” Ice picks find purchase in the frozen surface of the rink, Victor’s wrist is caught and pinned to the boards, Yuuri uses the leverage of his skates to press Victor hip to knee into the solid wood. “ _Vitenka_. You want me this much?” There’s a filthy grind in the press of Yuuri’s hips, trapping Victor and using him.

 

“ _Need.”_ Victor gasps. He’d planned it insofar as bringing fucking _supplies_ to the rink. This man was unbelievable. Whatever Yuuri had done in a past life to deserve the shivering man pinned by his hips, he would do again a hundred times- a thousand if it meant keeping _this_. If Victor was willing to be his, like this, then surely Yuuri should be willing to give back a little, give Victor all of the things he wanted.

 

“You wanted to know what I’ve been thinking about? You want to know what you’ve been doing to me?” His fingers find their way down the sinewy muscles of Victor’s naked back, goose pimples pricking the skin in their wake. He hooks the waistband of Victors pants, easing it over the curve of his ass so it frames the cheeks. “I was thinking about your ass Victor. I was thinking about how it tastes when I run my tongue between these pretty cheeks of yours...”

 

He kneads the firm swell of Victors ass, thumbs training between the cheeks slightly. “I thought about bending you over these boards and fucking you with my tongue until you were loose enough for me to slip in and take you apart with my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Victor is shaking as he fills the air between them with his deepest darkest desires, he’s nodding weakly back at him barely willing to speak. There’s nothing quite like the heady knowledge that Victor Nikiforov is addicted to him, to the feeling of Yuuri filling him and wringing him dry. His barely restrained desire is thrown into freefall when Victor reaches back, easing his pants down his legs and canting it into Yuuri’s hands.

 

“Yes. _Please Yuuri._ ”

 

Yuuri’s knees hit the ice before he quite realises he’s doing it, falling into the heady need to have Victor at his mercy. He’s still gripping Victor’s ass, thumbs still parting him, it's inevitable really that he’s going to allow his tongue to join them. Yuuri has many gifts, things he’s talented at and worked hard to attain- one of which is the ability to fuck Victor senseless with his mouth.

 

He strips his gloves off quickly, he’s more than eager to get his mouth on Victor. His fingers trail the length of those beautiful legs, tracing the sheer strength and artistry up calfs and thighs reverently. He's always in awe of this, the fact he gets to touch and feel and worship at the alter of his lover, his Victor. His mouth is already watering as he finds Victor's ass once more, working over the flesh in hard presses that have answering sighs.

 

The first swipe of his tongue hit both of his thumbs, gliding over them with the quickest touch before he’s pulling Victor further apart, thumbs and tongue working between the cheeks and finding Victor’s sweet spot. The other man is all heavy exhales and punched out moans as Yuuri works deeper, first with his tongue, piling slick upon slick as Victor loosens under his ministrations. Then he introduces his fingers, probing gently alongside the curl of his mouth.

 

He can feel Victor’s thighs shaking under his left hand, still pinning him to the rink boards, his voice is a constant stream of Yuuri’s name and some choice words in his native language which make Yuuri’s pulse jump in his veins, the need to claim and keep ticking under his skin now more than ever. He’s chasing those sounds out of Victor’s throat with the fingers and tongue he’s burying his his ass. It’s enough to make him want to simply jerk off onto the Russian’s ass and claim him in a far more lewd display.

 

He has much better ideas, however.

 

He snakes a hand around Victor’s thigh and grips his cock, giving it a few lazy  stokes and removing his tongue, fingers still gently easing in and out, matching pace with his fist of Victor’s dick. “You’re so fucking hot like this Vitya, I can’t wait to fuck you.” another whine reverberates the empty walls of the rink around them as Yuuri regains his feet, easily catching the lube from the boards with the hand not currently buried in Victor’s ass. “I’m going to get you nice and wet for me Vitenka, and then I’m going to give you my cock.”

 

The click of the lube bottle opening is smothered in Victor hissing as the chilled lube slides over the crack off his ass messily. Yuuri can’t help himself, he wants Victor to be slick and dishevelled by the end of this. He’s working the lube into Victor with one hand and freeing his own straining cock with the other, barely brushing the length of it over the curve of Victors cheek. “”Yuuri, fuck-” Victor is fucking back onto his fingers now, “Yuuri _please”_

 

As if Yuuri could ever refuse such a polite request.

 

In answer he gives his fingers a final twist, unerringly nailing Victor’s prostate in the process and eliciting the loudest moan yet before they’re easing out of Victor. The mess of lube on Victor’s ass is enough to slick Yuuri’s cock, but he adds more anyway, he wants this man to be fucked until he can’t form any words unless they’re Yuuri’s name. There’s a moment of teasing, skin on skin, before Victor pushes back at him, hip and ass taking the first inch of him so easily. It’s all Yuuri can do to refrain from burying himself into Victor’s heat.

 

It’s so sudden, so fucking hot and so tight that Yuuri’s breath is stolen from him for a moment, the overwhelming feeling of Victor pulling him under- the waves of desire finally stilling but the heat of his need rising in earnest to replace it. The slow burn of their flirting, the teasing pace he’d led Victor through to get here an amazing precursor to the main event. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, to tramp down the urge to fuck into Victor mercilessly, to ease into Victor’s heat urged on under the sweet sounds of his lover gasping his name.

 

“You look stunning like this Vitya, all spread open and taking my cock.” Victor shudders at the praise as Yuuri lets the clawing need ticking up his spine unravel just a little, ice picks digging into the frozen rink as he moves, fucking into Victor at an excruciatingly slow pace. He’s gripping at Victor’s legs as he works into him pushing gasps from the taller man with every roll of his hips. The heat that’s been pooling in his gut is building, tightening the muscles of his arms as they grip for purchase. Victor is clinging at the boards fingers tightening on the wood, “ _More, fuck- Yuuri.”_

 

Victor begging is Yuuri’s favorite kind of mess, all pink cheeks and gasping breath, yet Victor is resolutely out of reach right now, just when Yuuri desperately wants to see his face, to kiss him, to tease out all of his weak spots-

 

“Yuuri I- fuck I want to kiss you-”

 

“Vitya-” He grabs for the board, dragging the together in a messy press against the rink barrier that has Victor swearing as he’s hauled up Yuuri’s hand dragging his chest flush to his own. Victor twists in his grip, right hand finding his cheek and kissing him roughly, “I love you.”

 

There’s a sharpness to Victor’s gaze as the words fall from Yuuri’s lips, a hunger in his kiss as he pulls Yuuri to him again. Like a single change of the wind over the ocean causing ripples that turn the tides, the atmosphere changed. The grasping desperation and need, the heat and intensity shifting into something slower and heavier but no less overwhelming. Victor parts from him, turning and pulling him flush, pressing _him_ into the battered boards and stealing his breath with lips and hands.

 

“ _Lyubov moya,_ ” He loses his shirt between kisses, Victor divesting him of it and letting it fall to the ice before leading him down atop it. “Krasavets.”

 

He can feel the chill bite of the ice through the shirt as he falls under Victors hands, feels the rough surface of the boards dragging the skin of his back, but the sensations are nothing to the sight of Victor above him, freeing his legs of baggy sweats and bracketing his hips as he takes to his knees. There’s a second of fumbling, guiding Victor and he together in a slick side before he’s seated fully, that unforgettable white blonde hair falling into his eyes.

 

“ _Vitya_ …” He's crooning up at his lover, the heat and pull as Victor moves his hips in a shaky push and pull elongating the vowels and pitching is words into a moan that's caught by Victor's lips on his. He's beautiful and wrecked above Yuuri, sharp gasps pressing into the millimetres of space between their lips.

 

All of the tension dissipated, all of the heat clawing back up his spine as Victor works him into a frenzy, fingers digging bruises on top of bruises in the rise and fall of his lovers hips. He can feel the strain in Victor’s thighs, the driving need for release in the jump of his muscles, in the curl of his spine as Yuuri’s fingers soothe. Victor isn’t relenting, pushing himself up and beyond in pursuit of their climax, mouthing Yuuri’s name like a blessing. Victor is over him, surrounding him, encompassing his desire in his body and soul as he tumbles headfirst into sensation.

 

The pull of their bodies was blissful abandon, pushing Yuuri closer to the edge he could feel the grasp of his orgasm urging him to fuck up into his lover, to wring every ounce of pleasure he could from Victor as they toppled into their climax. Yuuri shudders under the intensity of it, that mind-blanking moment of release, Victor clenching around him and stilling head thrown as he paints Yuuri’s chest with come. They hold for moments, joined and panting, hands moving to clutch at one another.

 

“I love you. I love you.” Victor is pressing the words into his shoulder, his neck, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

 

As ever Yuuri can only respond in kind, kisses and confessions captured in moments on ice.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the smut! 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr------> [@topcatnikk](https://topcatnikki.tumblr.com/)


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